


Torn

by Corinna



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alien Biology, Alternate Universe - Future, Break Up, Cliche, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-30
Updated: 2003-08-30
Packaged: 2017-12-07 16:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corinna/pseuds/Corinna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the Clichéfic Challenge. Clark and Lex, after the end of the affair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Torn

They hadn’t seen each other since their last fight nearly a year ago. But that morning Superman had stopped Metallo from destroying LexCorp Towers, and Lex knew that under the circumstances, etiquette demanded more than an e-mail message. He’d cancelled his dinner plans with Ilsa, and drove one of his more non-descript cars across town.

He caught the building’s front door from one of the other tenants as she walked out, sparing himself the indignity of having to ask for admittance. The elevator let him out on the tenth floor, and he squared his shoulders before he knocked.

“Mrs. Torrington,” Clark began as he undid the locks, “maybe if you fed the cats right before you go out, they wouldn’t try to esc-”

“Hello, Clark.”

Clark didn’t look like he’d aged a day. Maybe he hadn’t. His eyes went wide behind his thick black glasses before he managed his all-too-familiar impersonal glare. It was less impressive when he was dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants than when he was Superman, but not by much. “What do you want?”

“May I come in?”

“No.”

Clark started to close the door, but Lex put up his hand to stop it. “I’m happy to discuss this morning’s events from the hallway, in a very loud voice, but I don’t think you want me to do that.”

Clark pressed his lips together angrily. “All right. One minute. I haven’t got all day.”

Lex stepped inside. The apartment was a simple rectangular studio, with a bed hidden behind Japanese rice-paper screens on one side and an L-shaped kitchen area on the other. Clark’s heated defensive look dared him to compare it to the townhouse they’d once shared. “Nice place.”

“If you’re here to make—”

“I came to say thank you.”

Clark’s face softened in surprise.

“For this morning,” Lex added, feeling vaguely foolish. “I wanted to thank you.”

Clark ran his tongue nervously across his upper lip. “It’s nothing. I’d do it for anyone.”

“You did it for me,” Lex said. Clark looked pained, and turned away. “And I know who to thank, so I am.”

“Thank you,” Clark said in a choked voice. He still wasn’t looking at Lex. “Is that it?”

Lex frowned. “Clark. I realize our breakup wasn’t entirely amicable, but I didn’t think things were this bad. I’d rather not have you think of me as an enemy.”

“You’re not—” Clark took a hitching breath, then let it out slowly. When he spoke again, his voice was steady and firm. “We’re not enemies. But I really need you to leave now.”

“All right,” Lex said. “I’m leaving.” Clark nodded and turned to face the wall. “If there’s any way I can repay the favor…”

“There was no favor,” Clark said quietly. “It’s what I do.”

“All right,” Lex repeated with a shrug. His life had become easier, less painful since he and Clark had ended their relationship, but it still seemed wrong to leave things like this with the man he’d once loved so wildly, let alone with the champion of his city. He put a hand lightly on Clark’s forearm. “I’ll see you soon.”

“ _Lex_ ,” Clark gasped, and suddenly he was wrapping himself around Lex, kissing him fiercely. Lex’s mouth fell open in shock and Clark’s tongue darted inside, tasting him, before he sucked hard on Lex’s lower lip. Then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over; Clark was on the other side of the room, by the kitchen table, looking out the window at the fire escape.

“Clark?”

“I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.”

Lex shook his head. “No, Clark, I should apologize. I would’ve handled this all differently if I’d realized. I’m flattered that you still have feelings for me, but I—”

“I don’t. Not like I used to.” Clark turned to face him again. He’d taken his glasses off, and his eyes were as bright and as clear as they had been when he was fifteen. “We made the right choice ending things. I really believe that.”

“Then what was that just about?”

Clark’s smile was a lost and angry one. “Just another legacy of Krypton. It turns out my people mated for life.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I, uh, imprinted on you or something the first time we slept together.”

“And you didn’t think to _mention_ this?” Lex asked, astonished.

“I didn’t know!” Clark replied. “The caves have all this stuff about ‘the strength of ten men’ and ruling like a god. They never mention that I should be careful who I lose my virginity to because I won’t be able to have sex with anyone else afterwards.”

“But then how can you be sure?”

“You think I haven’t _tried_?” Clark’s eyes filled and he turned away again. “God. I’ve tried. I thought maybe, at first, that I just wasn’t used to anyone else, but it just, it just kept being the same. And you, even just pictures of you, I kept having fantasies.” Clark’s voice turned bitter. “Even pictures of you with other people turned me on more than some new guy in my own bed. I could figure out that wasn’t normal all by myself. So I did some research. Biology and stuff. There are animals that mate for life; this sounds like the same thing.”

“I wish I’d known,” Lex said.

“Why? So you could stay with me out of pity and resent it?” Clark shook his head. “You’re happier now. I can see it in your pictures. You and that model. She’s pretty.”

Lex didn’t know what the appropriate response would be, or if there was one. “Thank you.”

“I’d be happier too. Except…”

“Look, there’s a biochemical reason for this, so there also has to be a biochemical solution for it.” Lex was already working out test plans in his head: the lab equipment he’d need, the machines, the secure computer systems. “Come by LexCorp Labs next week. We’ll run some tests, see if we can figure out which neuroreceptors are getting affected, and how to block them.”

“No tests.”

“What?”

“I’m not having any more medical tests done on me. It’s too great a risk.”

Lex scowled. “So you mistrust me so much that you’re willing to be miserable for the rest of your life?”

“I’m not miserable,” Clark said. “Just kind of lonely.” The expression on his face, meant to be reassuring, only served to spur Lex on; he hated to lose a fight.

“Fine. I’ll conduct the experiments on myself, then. If it’s my pheromonal signature that you imprinted on, I can isolate it and try to synthesize it.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if the biological mechanism for this is what I think it is, I could make a serum that would trick your body chemistry into thinking that someone else was me.”

Clark blushed a little at that, and smiled shyly, almost to himself. “I don’t think I could mistake anybody else for you, Lex.”

Lex and Ilsa lay in bed together for hours on lazy Sundays trading snippets of love poetry in three languages and daring each other to identify the quotations. It was so relaxing to have a lover he didn’t have to explain everything to. But nothing from Pierre de Ronsard could compare to the simple straightforwardness of Clark’s shy blushing honesty. It caught Lex defenseless; he’d come to see the man who accused him of placing expediency over ethics one too many times, not the one he’d dreamed of coming home to during long business trips. Now he couldn’t help seeing them both, and another as well—the man who, unintentionally, he’d left permanently lonely. “Clark. Come here.”

Clark flushed a deeper red and shook his head. “You should go now.”

“I don’t—”

“It’s OK if you’re not here. It is.” Clark’s voice was starting to shake, and he crossed his arms defensively across his chest. “But I need you to leave. I can’t…”

“It’s OK,” Lex said. Slowly, he started across the room to where Clark was standing. “Come here.”

“Lex, no. I can’t be so close and not… I can’t.”

“You don’t have to.” As gently as he could, Lex put his hands on Clark’s arms. Clark’s eyes went wide, and then he was kissing Lex again, hungrily and sloppily. Clark fumbled a bit with the top button of Lex’s shirt, but then the others were undone in a blink, and a tearing sound told Lex he’d started on the undershirt as well.

“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Clark sounded dazed as his hands skittered across Lex’s chest. “It’s been. I forgot. I’m used to.” He was still kissing Lex between breaths, unable or unwilling to stop.

“It’s OK,” Lex said again. “Hold on.” He pushed Clark back a little against one of the kitchen chairs; to his credit, Clark stayed back, though his lazy-lidded stare made him look as though he might pounce again at any moment. “Stay still,” Lex said, and he hooked his fingers under Clark’s sweatpants and pulled them down. Clark’s breathing turned to harsh panting, but he stayed where he was as Lex wrapped a hand around his erection.

It didn’t take long; Lex hadn’t thought it would. Clark stared at him the whole time, a stunned look on his face and his mouth hanging open. He came with a shudder and a deep groan. Lex looked around the kitchen and, seeing no paper towels, wiped his hand on the front of Clark’s T-shirt. Clark twitched at the contact.

“Oh, God,” he said. “Lex. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said Lex. “Let’s get you out of this.” He started to pull at Clark’s shirt, but Clark batted his hand away.

“Don’t,” he said, pulling his sweatpants back up over his hips. “I’ll get cleaned up after. After you leave.”

He looked lost again, and Lex wondered for a moment if this was just the latest in a string of bad ideas. When Clark met his eyes again, he was pretty sure it wasn’t. “No. I want to touch you.”

Clark caught his breath.

“Take me to bed,” Lex said. “I’ve got the evening free.”

Clark trembled a little at this. “You. You’re with that model.”

“That’s not important right now.”

“No.” Clark shook his head. “No. It’s wrong.”

“Clark. We both know I’m not going to leave her for you. Neither of us wants that. This isn’t about my relationship; it’s just about what’s going on with you. You need… help. Let me help you.”

He held out his right hand, and watched as Clark struggled with his emotions, need and shame and morality all showing in his expression. Lex’s own growing arousal was making him impatient, and he was trying to come up with more reassurances when finally something changed behind Clark’s eyes, and Lex knew he’d made the decision. Clark pulled off his T-shirt and instead of taking Lex’s hand, he stepped closer, looking down into Lex’s eyes intently. Lex reached up to hold him, bring him closer, and Clark sighed, letting himself fall into the embrace for a moment before he wrapped his arms around Lex and started kissing him again, quick gentle kisses that traced the curve of his brow and the slant of his cheekbones. Lex pulled back enough to guide him to the bed, and Clark knocked the screens aside to reveal a plain black wood platform bed topped with white sheets and pillows. It was perfectly made, with the hospital corners Lex knew Martha Kent had insisted on showing beneath the comforter, and somehow this detail – the thought of Clark carefully making and unmaking the bed every day, alone – was enough to undo him. He shucked the rest of his clothes and pulled Clark naked down onto the bed with him.

Lex had shared a bed with Clark for years, and would have said he knew everything there was to know about him as a lover. But Clark had never run his hands so intently across every inch of Lex’s body before, never shouted in pleasure when Lex bit at the hollow above his collarbone, never nipped and licked and scratched with such abandon. “Fuck me, Lex,” he whispered. “Please. I want you to fuck me.”

If their problems had only been in the bedroom, Lex thought, they’d be getting back together tomorrow. Clark’s eyes glowed with a new light as he pulled back the sheets and rummaged beneath the bed for a bottle of lubricant; Lex took it from him with a kiss to his wrist at the pulse point and a smile. “Lie back,” Lex said, but Clark pulled him closer for another desperate kiss.

“No, on my side,” he said. “I want you next to me.”

Lex lay back until they were almost spooning. Clark’s big hand drew slow circles on his hip, and he wondered if touch could be part of the biochemical bond Clark’s body had formed with his. Trying to remember the pair-bonding patterns of the Earth animals that mated for life helped keep him from getting too excited when he slid his slicked-up fingers in and Clark leaned back into him, saying his name over and over like it was the only word left. He wanted to take his time, make this everything Clark would be missing. But Clark was rocking back and forth against his hand, his eyes shut and his head lolling back on the pillow, and it was almost more than Lex could stand. He pressed a kiss to Clark’s shoulder blade. “On your back,” he said. “I want to see this.”

Clark reached around to claim his mouth again. Their tongues slid together as he rolled over, and they kissed until Lex had to come up for air. Clark smiled at him and ran a possessive hand across the top of his head. Lex swallowed hard and moved down the bed to find the lube again.

His body remembered Clark’s perfectly; sliding inside him was easier than he’d thought it would be, and the tight heat of him, the coiled power in every inch of his body, was so dizzying Lex had to shut his eyes for a minute before he started moving again. Clark’s legs were up over his shoulders, pulling him closer, and Lex knew just how to angle his thrusts to make Clark cry out and arch up to him. Clark’s eyes were wild, and he was babbling: soft noises from the back of his throat and harsh guttural sounds that could have been words. He jacked himself off, keeping the rhythm of Lex’s strokes, and Lex saw the orgasm coming in his almost pained expression before his body was spasmed by it. Lex followed not long after, sensation building at the base of his spine and exploding. He gasped and slumped forward, resting his forehead on Clark’s collarbone. Clark murmured his name again, his voice raw, as he ran his hands across Lex’s back.

When Lex was finally able to roll off him, Clark sped across the apartment to the bathroom and returned with a warm damp washcloth. He washed them both off, moving in small gentle circles, and Lex would have found it arousing if exhaustion were not already settling in. He lay back against the pillows and Clark lay down next to him, pulling the sheets up over both of their shoulders and propping his head up on his elbow. His sleepy, hopeful look sent a shock of irritation through Lex—what _now?_ —but then he remembered how many nights he’d fallen asleep with the weight of Clark’s head on his breastbone, his breath rustling Clark’s hair. “Come on,” Lex said, and opened his arms. “Might as well get the full experience.”

Clark grinned at that, and settled himself into place, one hand resting lightly on Lex’s stomach. He sighed a little, nuzzling against Lex’s chest, and when Lex put his hand on Clark’s broad back, he could feel the muscles soften into the touch. “Thank you,” he said. His voice was little more than a whisper.

“It wasn’t a favor,” Lex said. “There’s no need for thanks.”

“Still. Thank you anyway.”

Lex put a gentle kiss on the top of Clark’s head. He still smelled of the same shampoo he’d used in high school. “Thank me when I’ve found a way to fix this.”

Clark lifted his head to look up at him. His green eyes were unbelieving. “You really think you can?”

“I do. And if it takes me longer than I think it will…” He shrugged. “We can do this again sometime.”

“No,” Clark said. It was the same tone of certainty that he’d heard in a hundred fights, and Lex fought to keep himself from rising to the bait. “I’m not saying I don’t appreciate your doing this for me, Lex, but it’s wrong. We can’t do it again.”

Lex thought that Clark’s answer would be very different in four months, six months, another year, but for now he just nodded and pushed the hair back from Clark’s eyes. “All right. We won’t.”

Clark’s eyes were storm-dark seas, and he reached up to place a hard kiss on Lex’s lips. “Thank you,” he whispered again, and he lay back down against Lex’s chest.

Lex drifted between dozing and wakefulness until he heard Clark’s breath shift into the slower rhythms of sleep. Forcing himself awake, he gently rolled Clark onto his side, and crept out of bed, retrieving his clothing from the apartment floor. His undershirt was ripped almost in half, so he left that on the pillow he’d just been using. Clark shifted in his sleep to move closer to it. _Pheromones_ , Lex thought. _It has to be_. He let himself smile a little as he picked up his shoes and quietly slipped out of the apartment.

At the elevator, he put on his shoes and checked his voicemail. There were two messages, both from his assistant: the Corbin deal was a go, and the mayor had agreed to meet with him tomorrow. He checked the time: eight pm. Still early. When he got in the car, he’d call Ilsa and see if she wanted to reschedule for a late dinner at home. It had been a long afternoon, and he was starving.


End file.
